


A favor between Havoc Squad commanders

by ImperialParagons



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking to Cope, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Not Really Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialParagons/pseuds/ImperialParagons
Summary: There's no rest for Commander Lo'nash of the newly formed Alliance. As a coalition against Arcann begins to gather on Oddessan Valkorian attempts to hinder events at every turn.Meanwhile Jace Malcom plays a dangerous game that threatens to throw the entire galaxy back into chaos.*Set just after the events of KOTFE chapter nine and replacing chapter ten
Relationships: Aric Jorgan/Female Republic Trooper, Lana Beniko/Female Republic Trooper
Kudos: 2





	1. Harbinger of a Cataclysm

"How does it feel to be the Alliance Commander," Valkorian didn't physically appear, just whispered in Lo'nash's head; voice low and silken, dryly downplaying Alliance before emphasizing Commander. "This so called Alliance is only the first step in defeating my son."

It was just after three in the morning, or something close to that; not that standard measurements of time mattered when ships were coming and going no matter what the planetary time was. Internally it felt like one of those hours of the night when even insomniacs started to doze off -- something everybody in the Alliance had reached the point of over these last few months -- with the telltale dull ache of desperation for sleep and the commiserate inability to slip into its embrace.

Valkorian chuckled softly, almost sympathetically. He knew better then anybody that it had so long since she'd slept that there were spots across her vision and each step felt like the last she could manage.

Occasionally in these moments he'd lull her to sleep with stories from his past interwoven with flecks and sparks of his power -- his stories stories blurred sometimes, feeling more like her own memories than simply stories. Some mornings she would wake up covered in a cold sweat; impressions fading away like dreams, dark whispers of a being so ancient that the places and people were little more then echoes of memories.

After since she'd left Zakuul her dreams left her subconscious mind full of flashes of unfathomable power; exultant terror -- sometimes her own, sometimes caught in the expressions of others -- at the feeling of being in total control; and of the intoxication of absolute confidence; and of the nearly unlimited ability Valkorian had to tap into The Force.  


Valkorian had showed her what he had experienced on Ziost early on; although showed was a poor word for seeing and feeling events through two sets of memories.

She had asked him about Ziost and then immediately regretted it -- it had been inevitable that she would, but, there was nothing that could have prepared her to experience even a fraction of being the harbinger of a cataclysm.  


After that was when Lo'nash had stopped sleeping at night.  


More than a decade of military service with its attendant grief and struggle -- all of her life experience combined really -- felt like nothing next an eternity wrapped up in a few seconds of experiencing what it had been to exist only as a blinding rage shattered into millions of splinters each consuming and burning all at once.

There was no nightmare that she could have ever conjured that compared, and it was always there now. The screams filled any silence in her mind.  


Every night Valkorian would appear and whisper, "All I need is a few seconds of control and I can ease the pain for you and let you sleep." Most nights it was as Emperor Valkorian, benevolent and silver-tongued, condencendingly regal like her father had always been; others he was a slender wraith of a man with eyes the color of the moon whose voice with hypnotic and whose teeth were razor sharp.  


He was in a good mood tonight, and didn't push her for anything, content to gloat as exhaustion crept over her.  


"You'll need my power if you hope to defeat my son," it was the same line Lo'nash had been hearing for weeks now and she didn't react, almost missing that Valkorian actually wasn't repeating the same monologue. "I thought you understood this, but, I believe a demonstration is in order."

"I don't--" she answered him aloud out of habit, when with a wave of his hand something in her mind shifted all at once; a feeling of pressure gaining intensity until it felt like her skull was going to crack open.  


He laughed again, the sound echoing painfully as she slipped into unconsciousness, his offer of a demonstration making her last thought of of terror at what that might be.


	2. The empty ache of what could have been

A heartbeat passed before Lo'nash regained conciousness several black spots lingering in her vision that contrasted against a world that suddenly felt too alive. She blinked, this time slowly opening her eyes, adjusting to both a feeling of awareness extending beyond her own body and the slowing of time around her. She counted the heartbeats of the family of gizka she hadn't known were living in her quarters, slowing her breathing as she processed what had just happened.

It took her a few minutes of standing frozen in the middle of her quarters to come to the conclusion that this must be what it was like to be force sensitive; that so much of what she had spent a lifetime eye rolling as being Jedi mumbo jumbo was actually true. She had seen Sith Lords hurl lightning first hand and yet somehow it had never occurred to her to wonder how it all worked.

It was an laughable oversight, and the act of laughing broke the tension in her body. She took a deep breath she hadn't known she'd been holding in.   


Despite what she was feeling there was still doubt in the back of Lo'nash's mind if any of this was even real -- honestly she still wasn't sure if she was awake or dreaming. Fear and distrust rose in her chest, and with it came the screams of a dying world tugging at the edge of her mind as Valkorian returned.

He walked in a slow circle, expressionless, waiting and drawing out the moment. "I've opened your mind to The Force," his words were slow and calculating, and worst of all, a touch unsure. "You need to be ready to use every advantage in the battle to come." He turned and walked away, staying visible into the far distance as he did so.

Once he started to fade away the memories of Ziost grew quieter. It clicked to her just then of how much of a parasite Valkorian really was -- that the fragments of him embedded in her subconscious caused by the shattering of the imperfect ritual were weakening her mind every moment he lingered.

She wasn't sure if Valkorian actually leaving her mind when he faded away like that, or if he was simply choosing to stay silent. Finding out suddenly felt much more important then it had a moment ago.   


Five years ago she would have placed a call to the Jedi Council and asked them to help sort this all out but, what was it Lana had said about the Jedi? Could they really all be gone?  


Even if the Jedi were gone It couldn't hurt to try and get a message through to Tython; maybe somebody from the Twi'leck settlement could still get into the archives.

Determined to find out more about the side effects of force ghost possession Lo'nash headed for the War Room expecting it to be a skeleton shift, with mostly junior ensigns assigned to handle the routine operations of a military base, but Lana and Theron were still awake and working.

Theron looked over at her as she entered the cavern, the motion more reflex then actual awareness as he muttered to himself about something on a datapad. There were eight empty caf mugs and a half empty bottle of liquor cluttering his desk, and she could smell more caf brewing somewhere nearby. He returned to staring at the screen without acknowledgement, the dark circles under his eyes and scruff of several days showing in his reflection.

Lana hid her exhaustion better, a realization that only occurred because Lo'nash could feel it now -- how Lana's exhaustion was tightly compressed and pushed to the edges of her mind. The Sith was pacing while reading a datapad, and it took her an instant longer then Theron to look up, but when she did it was with a surprised expression in her eyes, "Commander?"

Theron blinked twice and looked away from the screen and actually at Lo'nash this time. "You should getting some sleep."

Lo'nash hadn't told either of them about the nightmares. It was bad enough they knew that Valkorian was in her mind, but if either of were to find out how bad it was they'd never trust her again.   


Unwilling to admit why she'd really come, Lo'nash gave the first excuse that came to mind, "I can't sleep without knowing what happened to my old team. I was hoping you'd heard something."

Theron looked away at the mention of Havoc Squad, shoulders slumped downwards in defeat. She didn't need the force to read the frustration and fatigue in his body language. "Speaking of Havoc, I got through to Malcolm," his tone was hollow. "He wasn't exactly thrilled to be talking to me, but, he agreed to check the black-ops files for you."

Theron chuckled dryly, bitter laugh cut with the pain only fathers can inflict on sons, "As a favor between Havoc Squad commanders." Silence followed, thick and oppressive and sharp; no good news was coming, the question was only in the degree of bad.   


"Jorgan is dead with the rest of the new Havoc Squad," there was deep reluctance in the delivery, not only in the telling that her husband was dead but in the follow up statement. "He was maybe two hours behind us when we escaped in the Gravestone. Havoc was in deep cover recon when the news broke about your escape and--" Theron trailed off and shivered from a sudden temperature drop, immediately looking around for a possible cause.

He let Lo'nash take the half-full vodka bottle from his desk and finish the whole thing in a single long drink while he continued, "Dorne works for him now. She and Four-Ex were both reassigned to work for the PR office not even a month after you vanished."

Even though Theron had never seen her drink before he had seen the list of disciplinary write-ups for drunken disorderly conduct from her time in the academy. That much liquor that fast would have staggered most people, but she didn't look the least bit phased.

"What about Yuun?"   


"The Republic lost track of him and nobody has been able to get a straight answer from the Gand Representative about, well, anything."   


"Call Malcom," it was not a request, or an order, or even a command, it was a threat backed by an immediate physical pressure in his chest. Over the years of working for the SiS he'd watched plenty of post mission tape of Sith using the dark side to impose their will on people; and it had taken years for the memories of Ziost to fade, but he'd never felt the force like this before. His implants and other countermeasures had always been enough to counter any Sith he'd met.

Even Revan's influence hadn't been this strong, and yet, Theron found himself silently choking as the pressure on his chest tightened almost to the point of suffocation before vanishing just as suddenly as it had come on.

Lo'nash didn't repeat the threat while he struggled, just stared at him with cold grey eyes waiting for him to respond.

With a wheeze he stammered, "Malcom has probably changed his secure frequency by now." He took a deep shuddering breath, "Saresh has become increasingly paranoid about military security and even my considerable skills can't keep up." His training kicked in and kept his voice level as he assessed the situation and gathered information.   


The chill left the air slowly as Lo'nash processed and considered what Theron was telling her. "Whatever it takes, get me that call. Please." Her voice cracked on please, anger replaced with grief.

The shaking soundless sobbing that followed caused both Lana and Theron to look away; they knew she wouldn't want them to see her like this.

There was no rage in her grieving, for no rage would bring him back; no feeling of vengeance against soulless faceless skytroopers because there was no malice in their actions; no compulsion to finish a final mission because the was nothing left undone. Hers was grief with no outlet or resolution, just the empty ache of what could have been.

Bitterness grew, the feeling manifesting as force energy that wrapped thread-like up her arms, coiled and ready to lash out. It was enough of a change from grief to draw her back to the present moment, and a shuddering deep breath ended the silent sobs. With an angry clench of her fist, nails digging into her skin hard enough that a thin line of blood formed, and a second deep breath she was in control again.

Theron looked over at her with concern in his eyes, but at a loss for words. He stared down at the desk, at the empty caf cups, and then back down at the desk where with a soft click he opened a trick door and pulled out a stim, wincing as he pressed it into his arm. "I won't rest until I figure it out."

It hit her then how greatful for Theron she was, and against her better judgement Lo'nash walked over and wrapped him in a hug. She was not the hugging type, but, there was a moment of understanding between them born from the trust and reliance that only comes from the worst experiences.   


"I couldn't do this with out you," Theron gave a half smile to her as she stopped squeezing, "both of you--" she turned to look over at Lana, but she was gone. "If there's anything I can do to help, just say the word."

"There is one thing Commander, was Valkorian /here/ a minute ago?"


	3. "To your ill health and untimely death."

"I don't have Lana's senses but even I could tell something strange was going on." Theron's voice was light and casual although the question was anything but.

Lo'nash took a minute to reply, and couldn't entirely keep a paranoid edge out of her voice when she answered. "Yes."   


Theron nodded slowly, deep in thought. "If you ever need a break from him, I might have something. Not yet, but, I might have a lead on somebody who knows all about force ghosts."

The motion was subtle but Lo'nash noticed him check his implants as he turned back to staring a complicated matrix of comm traffic signals. A flicker of guilt tugged at her, a gnawing sense that in that moment wanting to strangle somebody had been more of a reality then she'd realized.

"That's not guilt you feel," Valkorian stopped time and glided over to Theron, placing a hand on his shoulder, “That’s your pathetic conditioned response to recoil from using the power I've given you." He stalked slowly around Theron as he spoke, eyes on him not her, “You think you know what power is, but this, this is barely the smallest taste of the things I can offer you -- you only need to open your mind to the idea that you want to use it.”

He laughed, soft and cruel, “His protections against the force are nothing to me, for just a second of control I could tell you his deepest secrets and desires--”

“Or hers,” He teleported across the room, voice carrying effortlessly. Lo'nash hadn’t even noticed Lana returning carrying what looked like a decatur of whisky, “The things I can tell you are as endless as the galaxy itself."

He floated back towards her, deep in thought, before shaking his head in disappointment “Perhaps you’re not ready yet. You haven’t yet experienced wanting to move beyond your limits.” His gaze lingered on Theron, “Consider what I’ve said.”

With a lasting impression of condescension he was gone, time resumed, and Theron jerked backwards in his chair while Lana nearly dropped what she was carrying. Theron took a long slow deep breath before, voice thick with casualness, he asked, “Valkorian say anything important?"

“No,” Lo'nash offered nothing else but the single flat word before glancing over at Lana who had nearly dropped one of the shot glasses she was holding as she turned too quickly toward where Valkorian had been standing.   


Lana swore under her breath fumbling for a moment before regaining composure, a touch of annoyance in her words, "Every Force Sensitive here is on edge due to his influence."

Lo'nash raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Lana frowned, “Sana Rae didn’t tell you? I gave her strict instructions to debrief you about the localized disturbances of the Force that we believe to be related to Valkorian’s presence.”

“Does knowing that help us get rid of him?" Theron asked before Lo'nash could, his attention shifting away from what he'd been working on as he pulled out his datapad to look for the report.

“No, but this might,” It /was/ whisky Lana had been carrying. “You’re not the first person in the galaxy to have a force ghost problem, I’d actually thought of this earlier but--”

Valkorian appeared again, wordlessly floating three feet behind Lana, brows furrowed as he look perplexed for an instant before he began to chuckle. Lana stopped mid-sentence to stare right through him, and even Theron seemed to be able to sense that he was there.   


“--I assumed that you had stopped drinking and wouldn't be interested," she clenched her jaw slightly to keep talking as if nothing was wrong.

Valkorian’s chuckles grew into a sinister laugh.   
  
Lo'nash wanted nothing more in that moment then to take Lana up on the offer. Maybe she'd wake up afterward and find that the last few hours had been a dream, or a simulation, anything but real. That was the one thing she was holding onto, that this wasn't really happening right now -- that Aric is still alive and--

She took the bottle, poured a double, and raised it in Valkorian’s direction, “To your ill health and untimely death."


	4. "The galaxy we're trying to save is not the one you remember."

Lo'nash and Lana went through the first bottle of top-shelf whiskey without realizing; a jumble of desidedly-bigger-than-shot-size glasses strewn haphazardly all over the table, some with a sheen of sloshed liquor coating them. A mostly empty second bottle was toppled over on its side with another two shots worth of liquid inside, it too lay unnoticed on the small table in Lo'nash's quarters where they had retreated to.   


"We had just landed on Belsavis, and it took Jorgan not even ten minutes to pick a fight with the warden. Elara was still unpacking supplies and he's over there trying to tell this guy that he's got about a thousand security risks and that he can't believe how incompetently things were being run at such a high security facility," Lo'nash grinned, her cheeks flushed and talking louder then she meant to, "mid-speech the durasteel security-doors were blown open and a bunch of convicts armed with heavy artillery started pouring through. We took cover and returned fire, and the first lull in combat noise Jorgan picked that exact moment to snap 'well you can just kiss my furry Cathar Ass.'"

Lo'nash laughed at the memory, but at the time it had been a life or death situation. Their position had been overrun by superior numbers armed with heavy weapons and a Sith Lord leading them.   


"Jorgan spent the entire time we were on Belsavis trying to apply strict military rules and discipline as the solution to every problem," she took another shot before shaking her head sadly, "For as much as he believed in rules Havoc Squad sure spent a hell of a lot of time breaking them to get the job done."

It was hard to believe, even now, how much they'd accomplished in such a short time; barely three years together, and they'd saved the galaxy what felt like dozens of times. It stung, more than she'd have normally admitted to, that they'd been heroes only in the footnotes of history, forgotten before even a decade had passed.

"I'm curious, when you ran Sith Intelligence what sort of reports did you get about Havoc? We were Heroes to the Republic, what did the Empire think of us?"   


Lana didn't immediately answer, golden eyes thoughtful as she considered how much truth to reveal. "Much of it concerned General Rakton's vendetta; up until Corellia most of our operatives were routinely assigned at the whims of high ranking Sith instead of used for strictly military matters. While I was generally aware of Havoc's major actions, there were thousands of Republic military units we tracked."

Rakton was a name Lo'nash hadn't heard in a long time. "Whatever happened to Rakton anyway? I never heard anything else after testifying to the senate during his trial."   


"He ended up joining the Revanites after being turned back over to the Empire." Lana's expression darkened at the memory. She and Theron had both spent months undercover, avoiding bounty hunters and assassins on the word of Rakton and others like him. "He was one of the operatives personally dealt with by Darth Marr after the Battle of Rishi."

“I can’t believe the Republic ended up turning that bastard over to the Empire -- I'm glad he got what was coming to him in the end though,” Lo'nash's grip tightened enough on the empty glass to create a hairline fracture that grew into a crack as she continued, “One of his elaborate traps was the worst argument Jorgan and I ever had about, well, anything.”

“Rakton had captured a Republic transport and was monologuing about his plan to kill the four-hundered or so people onboard unless we surrendered. Standard sort of thing he did, Imperial boilerplate basically." Lana didn't quite manage to keep a flicker of amusement from showing through even as she raised her eyebrows in faux offense at the stereotype.   


Rakton had been a popular Imperial General at the time, and his vendetta against Havoc Squad had been fairly widely known -- helped along by several dramatic propaganda pulp novels. Even knowing full well that the novel versions of Havoc were fictional, it had initially been slightly jarring just how spot on the depictions of Elara and Vik had been.   


"While he was monologuing Elara started doing something or another with overriding shield controls so that there would still be atmosphere in the ship for long enough for us to tow it somewhere even if he tried to kill everybody on board. We had the situation handled."

“But," Lo'nash paused, swallowing a lump of emotion she hadn't been expecting. "We got a priority communication from agent Jaxo. She had beat us there, tried to secure the life support systems on her own, and had gotten pinned half way across the ship -- somewhere that if Rakton disabled life support she'd have been the first to die. She begged us, begged me," her voice cracked a little on me, the emphasis on the word sad and forlorn and a touch tender, "to come rescue her."

"So I did. Despite the fact that it very nearly got everybody killed, it was the right thing to do, and I'd make the same choice every time." There wasn't shame in the statement, or regret, only a sense of bone-deep exhaustion.   


"After I took off to save Jaxo Elara didn’t quite manage to override shield controls after getting distracted yelling at Vik. Jorgan was supposed to be supervising to keep the two of them from fighting, but he ran after me instead."

"Jorgan and I ended up having a shouting match while seven different life support systems failed around us. We just got more and more heated until finally I asked what he would have saved me if i'd been me in over my head."

"'Of course I'd have rescued your sorry hide! But you wouldn't have been stupid enough to fall for something like this in the first place!'" Her impression of Jorgan's voice was full of abiding fondness; even in recounting him screaming there was deep affection and respect for the man.

"That's why I married him." Lo'nash chucked sadly, "We'd fight over the dumbest things until neither of us could even remember what had started it. He'd never admit he was wrong and would keep arguing anyway just as an excuse to keep talking late into the night."

The conversation fell into a lull, Lo'nash staring off into space lost in a drunken reverie. It hadn't sunk in yet that Jorgan was really /gone/.

"Jorgan and I had put in for extended leave after helping with the evacuation of Makeb. I'd even started the paperwork to have Elara take on running Havoc on a temporary basis, but, two days before our leaves was supposed to come due was when Theron contacted Havoc and we got caught up in everything and now… Now I'll never get that chance."

"The Republic stole that time from me," Lo'nash's face darkened and steel eyes narrowed in barely contained rage, static charge clung to her and started to spark between her fingers, shattering the glass she'd been holding. She jumped in surprise, static charge gone before Lana could notice anything strange had happened.

Lana swept the glass away with an effortless flick of the wrist, dozens of tiny shards hovering midair before zipping away and falling into a neat heap in the trashcan. “Sith have it easier in some ways. We're taught from our first days in the Academy to avoid forming attachments,"

"Why?"

Lana hesitated again, mulling it over before answering "Among Sith attachments are often liabilities. Imperial history is full of ruinous Kaggaths fought over minor slights towards a spouse."

"Keg - ath?" Had she been sober Lo'nash would have remembered the word from her time at the academy -- not to mention the swirling gossip from Corellia -- but she was slipping little by little.

"They're an ancient form of Sith honor duel."

Lo'nash snorted dismissively, holding what was left of the shattered glass in one hand and twirling it mindlessly, "That sounds about right -- but at least you Sith care enough to fight about honor." Her face grew pensive, "I can't believe that the Jedi Order is just, gone."

"There aren't that many Sith left either," Lana offered quietly, "The Jedi Order declined slowly over several years before there were only a tiny handful left. It wasn't obvious until Satele Shan vanished that they had dwindled to nothing." She took a long slow drink, thinking deeply. "The galaxy we're trying to save is not the one you remember."

Valkorian appeared at that comment, fuzzy around the edges but still there, his words like a dull buzzing. He paced back and forth, muttering something Lo'nash couldn't understand while Lana turned towards him studying the specter.

"It's rather a shame this didn't help, it's been nice to unwind for a few hours." There was something else Lana wanted to say, but was holding back, instead sounding slightly too formal, "I really should go."

Lana didn't immediately stand up despite her words, eyes still lingering on where she could sense but not see Valkorian.

"Wait, don't go. Don't leave me alone with him."   



	5. Playing Multi-dimensional Political Dejarik

Coruscant || Republic Military Offices

"He's not my responsibility, take it up with Director Trant!" Jace Malcom's roar of an angry shout carried down several hallways, and anybody that could place the voice immediately brisky turned and remembered they had business in the opposite direction. "I know he's--"

The silence that followed was ominous, if brief. Flanked by several security droids, Chancellor Saresh stormed out of Malcom's office, a long silken cape billowing behind her as people scattered out of her way on sight alone.   


Saresh lacked Malcom's powers of physical intimidation, but the perpetual office gossip was about who she was going to 'find evidence of corruption' against next -- as such everybody was hyper vigilant to avoid seeming anything other than loyal and dutiful in their interactions with the Chancellor.   


For all her trending-towards-dictatorship tendencies, almost everybody there would have at the very minimum admitted she'd been an effective wartime leader. Those who thought differently, well, they weren't around these days to voice their opinions on matters.

"Dorne!" Malcom's bellow was for volume this time, and on cue Elara headed for his open door, taking a brief moment to make sure that her computer terminal had been placed under secure lockdown.   


Five years of working for Malcom had put a few tired lines under her eyes, and her Imperial accent had almost disappeared, but little else had changed. "Sir?" The word was followed with the perfunctory formal salute and she stood in unmoving parade rest waiting for his reply.

"I'm never going to convince you that that's not how I do things around here am I?" Malcom muttered, her rigidity irritating him more today than it normally would. She was a damn fine officer one of the best, but she could be so--he shook his head and sighed, folding his fingers across each other and resting his forearms on the desk.

"The Supreme Chancellor is, displeased, with my approach to dealing with The Alliance."

Elara raised an eyebrow but offered no immediate comment, letting Malcom take his time to make his point.

"She believes that Arcann can be convinced to make a deal -- provided we have the right bargaining chips." His brow furrowed and he scowled.   


"She wants you to turn over Ca--The Outlander?"

"Not exactly," Malcom's eyes met Elara's and for a second she could see years of repressed rage just under the surface but the glimpse was gone in a flash, "Saresh is playing multi-dimensional political Dejarik here. According to her if we simply turn 'the outlander' over that would make Arcann look weak -- but if we could offer him information about--"

"You're talking about betrayal." Malcom blinked in shock at the fact that Elara had interrupted him. In five years of working together she'd never broken a single regulation, for her to interrupt a senior officer came as a total shock, as did the sharp angry bite in tone -- her Imperial accent coming back full force. "I won't be part of that."

"Dorne--" there was a warning note in his voice that she had better tread very carefully with what she said next.

"I can draw up my resignation papers right now if--"

"Don't be stupid!" Malcom's temper flared and he took a deep breath before continuing. "If you resign what do you think will happen? The Supreme Chancellor has contingency plans for all of us here Elara!" Another paused and deep breath. "You'd last a day before any number of charges were brought against you; or, depending on the Supreme Chancellors mood you might simply be stuck on the first transport back to Imperial space."

The threat had its intended effect. Elara's eyes widened slightly and a nervous shudder broke her perfect parade rest. Malcom had only ever heard rumors about what the Imperial military did to traitors, but he doubted even the wildest rumors were anywhere near awful enough to be true.

"All I need from you is to make a holocall to my son. Nothing that would get your hands dirty."

Silence.

Malcom was surprised how long she stood there, and even more surprised at her answer. "I'll get those resignation papers drawn up for you before the end of the day, Sir."

Elara turned on her heel and was gone before he could object again. It took him a second to process, but when he did, he found himself chuckling fondly and shaking his head ruefully at the empty room "I should have known better. She's too good an officer for this."

There were plenty of options that didn't involve Dorne but, they were all much more likely to fail. No. Misgivings aside, he needed Dorne for this.   


There was one more card he could play in convincing her, one Malcom had hoped to avoid having to use -- and wouldn't have under normal circumstances -- but the window of opportunity to pull off Saresh's gambit was vanishingly short.

When Dorne returned with her stack of paperwork he held up a hand for her to wait, "There's one thing you should know before you throw your career away." He paused for emphasis. "All I ask is that you hear me out first, and if you still want to go, I won't stop you."

She hesitated and gave a small nod. Had the situation been different he would have offered her an encouraging smile in return, instead he wordlessly handed her a thin folder with a single page report and reclined back in his chair waiting as Elara read and reread the single sheet.

"Who else knows?"   


"Me, you, and Marcus Trant. I don't believe General Garza was aware. The amount of favors Trant had to trade to get even that single page, that may be one of the most valuable pieces of paper in the galaxy." He was only half teasing.

"If this is true--"

"It is.'

"--how were so many people fooled?"

"Ask her yourself."


	6. A Juxtaposition of Roles

Time seemed to stand still, maybe it actually was standing still, before things snapped back to reality as Lana nodded that she would stay, taking a long slow look around the room.

It was probably morning now. Maybe even afternoon. There was no good way to tell time in a windowless room; but it seemed as if enough time has passed that Lana should probably be doing something else, both of them should.

"You really should try to get some rest Commander. I'll reschedule your morning meetings and--"

"--you've been up for how long? I'm perfectly fine to attend my meetings with--" Shit. She didn't actually remember who she was supposed to meet with today.  


Lana raised an eyebrow, "Doctor Oggurobb? About his research into using skytrooper automation to--" she stopped at Lo'nash's grimace. "It's quite interesting really, he believes we could--"

"Ok, ok," It was probably a mistake to give into Lana so easily about this, but her advisor was right, she was not in any sort of state to attend meetings. "It's such a tragedy I'll miss out on silently standing there and nodding supportively for three hours--

"Is that really what you normally do?" Lana laughed, genuine amusement lighting up her face -- and it occurred to Lo'nash that this might be the first time she had ever heard Lana laugh like that. It wasn't as if Lana never laughed, it was more, they'd been unease allies at best leading up to Ziost.  


Friendship had never been a consideration despite all they had gone through together. After all, what could a Republic Trooper and a Sith Lord have in common? And yet… Yavin had proved that Imperials weren't as different as she'd always believed, and now... Now they were building an Alliance that rested upon the premise that people from anywhere in the galaxy could work together.  


"He told me once that's how he does his best work with me silently standing around and nodding."  


Lana laughed again, hair slightly messy, twirling a shot glass in between her fingers using the force to keep in from slipping, golden eyes twinkling, "He's not the only person who would find that true."  


"You don't mean that, you're--" Lo'nash hesitated, not entirely sure that Lana hadn't meant exactly what she'd said. "I'm--"

"I shouldn't have presumed--"

"No, it's--"

"We've got an Emergency transmission Commander!" Theron shouted from halfway down the hall before entering the room slightly out of breath at a sprint, "It's from Elara, she doesn't know how long she can keep the call connected."

"I've transmitted coordinates to Jorgan's last known location, you deserve to know--

The call cut out and faded to an image of a bearded man Lo'nash didn't immediately recognize, but Theron did. "Trant."

"Shan," they stared at each other, sizing each other up, before the SiS director continued, "The Supreme Chancellor has made stopping your meddling with military matters our highest priority--"

Lo'nash scoffed in surprise loudly enough that Marcus turned to look at her, "The entire Republic is under hostile military occupation and your highest priority is to keep Theron from calling his dad and my old CO from checking in occasionally?"

"Unfortunately, yes." The director sounded dejected, "I'm only on the line to serve you notice that the next time anybody from the Alliance tries to contact any senior Republic military personnel it will be considered a hostile act and the Chancellor has authorized a military response."

The mood in the room chilled immediately, "On a personal note; I'm sorry about Jorgan. He was a good man and you and he deserved--"

A shot glass hurled through the hologram ended the call as Theron dropped the holocomm and ducked just in time. "Hey! I'm just the messenger here," Theron's tone was teasing as he tried to brush off the incident. "Although, honestly, if that had been the real director Trant you'd have been doing the galaxy a favor."

Valkorian was still lurking, still muttering in the background, and subconsciously Lo'nash ended up with almost identical posture as she started to pace, "Did Elara's message come through?"

"Gee, thanks for the apology. I'm fine by the way." That got no reaction from either Lana or Lo'nash and Theron shook his head, "I know it's been a long day but--"

"Long day? Is that what you think is wrong?" Theron held up his hands in surrender at the dangerous warning and venom in Lo'nash's voice and glanced down at the holocomm, nodding in answer to her previous question.

"Call Hylo and tell her I'm taking whatever ship is docked," the order wasn't directed to either of them specifically -- it was an afterthought that she should probably give Hylo at least a few minutes heads up to deal with all the headaches this would undoubtedly cause -- because she was already halfway down the hallway.  


She would apologize to Theron later -- or at least she intended to. It was actual guilt she felt this time over the way she had treated him the past few days. He'd never been anything but a loyal friend, even if they didn't always see eye to eye there was nothing she wouldn't do if he asked.  


Senya stopped her at the entrance to the Hanger Bay, her eyes bright with concern. "Commander--" she stopped in surprise as Lo'nash tried to shove by, her feet sliding a few inches on the stone floor.

They locked shoulders for a moment, Senya solid and unmoving, before Lo'nash took a half step back, "You'd do the same thing."

Senya shakes her head, "There's nothing I wouldn't do for my family -- but I'm not the Alliance Commander."

"Senya, get out of my way." It was the same imperious commanding tone she'd used on Theron, but this time it was intentional and her grey eyes glowed slightly. Senya took a single step back, hand going to her Lightsaber, tensing against a threat.

"Commander you need to--"

Lo'nash registered Senya's backstep as vulnerability a split second before her alcohol slowed judgement caught up, and in a motion that was entirely foreign and also completely intuitive she struck at Senya's feet using a pulse of force energy to send her sprawling.  


"She's weak, finish her! Strike her down!" Valkorian was there all of a sudden -- or had he been there longer, she couldn't tell anymore -- his pose a mirror image to her own palm down strike; their movements eerily aligned; he was almost her shadow.

She was already back to running, ignoring Valkorian and leaving Senya to scramble to her feet and give chase. There were other people in the corridor now, multiple sets of running footsteps and voices all shouting at her to stop. How had they all gotten there so fast?  


There were no ships in the hanger when she arrived, not even a landing shuttle. The huge bay was empty except for a few of admiral Aygo's recruits on the far side taking shots with stun blasters at practice dummies.

Even the loading crews weren't there, and--

\-- _she'd asked for his help, perhaps unwittingly but it was enough for a flicker of control; she was slipping and he could feel her heartbeat, feel her exhaustion as if it were his own_ \--

\-- _and it was pitch dark outside, the dawn was still hours away how had she lost track of time so badly_ \--

\-- _he moved, and she followed him; a juxtaposition of roles, she was his shadow now, fading into something that wasn't quite solid_ \--

\-- _wait, of course there were no ships, anything that could fly was in orbit providing temporary off planet quarters for those not on duty while construction of the base was finished. She'd signed those orders herself not even two weeks ago so why had_ \--

\-- _and yet, there was still resistance from her, something preventing him from doing anything more than holding them both in limbo_ \--

"Commander." Lo'nash turned towards the voice and it seemed like the entire on duty staff was standing there now. "Commander are you--"

Energy sparked from her fingertips and it was definitely not her doing this time.  


\-- _The Force bent to his rage even if she wouldn't, but it was only a matter of time now, and he had all the time in the Universe_ \--

Valkorian's laugh was bone chilling and audible to everyone in the room, and several people took nervous steps backwards.

"You don't have the strength to keep fighting me," he stood next to her, now real and solid, faintly visible to anybody with force sensitivity. "You have nothing left. Surrender."

Senya moved towards him, slow, crouching low one hand up with a flicker of force energy held in reserve to use as a shield if needed. "He's wrong. You know what it's like to love and that's more strength then he will ever know."

\-- _Senya's words stirred something, a power he didn't understand pushing him back, golden light burning him until he had to turn and flee_ \--

Valkorian and Senya looked at each other, and he took several steps towards her, fading with each step, his grey eyes full of terror as he passed right through her and faded into nothingness.

Senya's reflexes were just fast enough to catch Lo'nash as she crumpled to the floor. 


	7. "Wait, test subject?"

Lo'nash woke to the dim sound of a heart monitor, the small private room off the Alliance medbed empty except for a droid in status that whirred to life and began to check several display panels. "Your D-waves are elevated, however, other vital signs are normal. You have been restricted to bed rest on order of Doctor Juvard Illip Oggurobb."

She didn't object, or even acknowledge the droid's presence, staring up at the carved rock that made up the ceiling of the room; part of it had been drilled through, part carved with the force.   


For the first time since she had woken from Carbonite there was no sign of Valkorian.

Processing the silence in her mind took a few minutes, and a peaceful sense of Self washed over her as she relaxed for the first time in years.

She didn't recognize the Rattakki woman who entered the room after the droid pressed the alert button. Whoever she was, she moved with a wraith like stealth, a delicate intricately engraved lightsaber clipped to a traveling coat worn over rustic looking pants under a black tunic. Except for the lightsaber she would have fit right in on any backwater farm planet.   


A flick of her wrist disabled the med droid; another disabled the hidden camera and with a glance she closed the door behind her with a firm click of a lock. "When did your family start conditioning you?"

"Conditioning me about what?" Hooked up to several machines, and unarmed there was no hope of fighting off an attacker, and Lo'nash's heart-rate spiked even as she kept her voice calm. The woman could just be a new healer with poor bedside manner for all she knew.

"How to suppress the force." Subdarus paused, glancing at the heart-rate monitor before continuing, "I'm not familiar with all the ways--"

"What are you talking about, I'm--"

"Lucky to be alive is what you are," her somber tone sent a chill down Lo'nash's spine. "Valkorian's possession should have killed you."   


Subdarus checked two monitors with a frown slowly forming as she shook her head at several numbers. "What's the last thing you can clearly remember?"   


"I was headed towards the hanger bay and ran into Senya. I shoved by her and then--" Lo'nash stopped, a perplexed and slightly glazed look in her eyes as she tried to recall anything beyond that only to have the memories start to form then slip away again.

"You can't remember can you?" It was hard to tell if it was compassion or pity in her words. "That's why I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

"I think it would be best if I showed you the security footage."

It was a little bit grainy and the camera angle was awful, but Lo'nash watched herself start running towards the hanger bay then freeze mid step, staring blankly at a wall for a solid twenty minutes. Lana and Theron walked around her talking to each other and trying to get her attention before with no warning she took off running again, oblivious to their shouting.

It happened again, and this time there were more people called in, all trying all sorts of things to snap her out of it. It was jarring to watch, surreal to see the cone of force energy brushing aside anybody in her field of vision just before she started moving again.   


"Temporal distortion used to be a common phenomenon among ancient Force users; but Jedi and Sith alike have long since lost the secret to--"

"Smaller words."

"Time disruption," there was imperious impatience in Subdarus's voice at having to explain. "When you freeze like that, that's Valkorian attempting to control you. How you've managed to resist is a puzzle to even me."

A memory came back to her, "We've met before, on Yavin. You were one of the Sith Lords from the Temple Assault group.

Subdarus nodded and laughed softly, pale grey eyes glowing slightly, "Did you really think your friends would let just anybody in to see you? Lady Beniko is worth--"

"/Lady/--"   


Subdarus raised one eyebrow in askance, "Would you like a discourse on Imperial social titles? Lady Beniko's is of particular historical importance if you'd like the--"

"No," the interjection was sharper than Lo'nash meant it, and for a split second Subdarus looked like she wanted to inquire as to the severity of the reaction but simply dropped the subject.

"As I was saying, I was specifically brought here because until recently I was the Imperial expert on Force Aberrations. Lady Beniko still has considerable contacts in the Empire and spared no expense in making sure you had the galaxy's foremost expert to supervise your treatment."   


"I've actually been on sabbatical working for Czerka on a special project and was surprised she was able to get through to me. The Empress herself has had trouble dealing with Czerka's Corporation-ism," she chuckled dryly, "I suspect Czerka was enticed by the prospect of my research finally having a test subject."

"Wait, test subject?"

Subdarus held up a tiny vial, "It's taken the better part of five years of research, but, at long last a reliable and immediate method of suppressing The Force in living creatures without killing them. So long as this is in your system, you'll feel perfectly ordinary." She paused, "Unfortunately for my research, there were already low levels of a force suppressing neurotransmitter in your system when we administered the first dose."

That was bad. Bad on a scale Lo'nash couldn't even begin to think about. Her mouth went dry and her heart skipped a beat, and three different screens glowed red around the edges.

"It's all perfectly safe, don't worry." Subdarus glanced at the screens, voice taking on a patronizing tone as she watched the numbers go back down before continuing. "The body can naturally produce the same neurotransmitters that form the base of this under the right conditions. The worst side effect you might have is a little bit of light-headedness."

Lo'nash didn't answer, instead struggling to sit up, "How long does it last?"

"You'll need a dose every two weeks at minimum, every week for maximum effectiveness."   


"And if I go longer?" The thin veneer of wanting to say 'and if I stop taking it' and choosing the polite option instead wasn't fooling anybody.   


"Temporal displacement is a progressively degenerative disease," Subdarus chose her words carefully, avoiding the subject of death in favor of speaking with a somber gravitas about prospects for the future. "I would need much more evidence before making an official diagnosis but, you'd almost certainly end up trapped in your own mind within a matter of weeks."

Silence fell. "For what it's worth, the fact that you've lasted as long as you have with The Sith Emperor fighting you… The stories about you undersell how remarkable you are."

There was a knock on the door, and Subdarus waved it open again as Theron and Lana both stood there uneasily, glaring at each other as if mid-argument. "As I've already told your advisors, I can't formally join your Alliance, but, I will stay here to monitor your condition."

She smiled and gave a polite nod to Theron, not acknowledging the fact that Lana bristled and offered no greeting as she left the room.

Lana doesn't even wait until Subdarus was out of earshot before stating flatly, "I would have strongly objected on your behalf had I known her plan was to use you as a test subject for her research."

Theron raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Are you kidding? This is the solution we've been waiting for. I know Czerka is--"

"--It's not about Czerka. She's--"

Lo'nash stopped listening at that point, staring at the ceiling again, letting her thoughts wander through the events of the past few months uninterrupted by Valkorian's commentary.

There was a lot that didn't add up, missing pieces of critical information about what Vaylin and Arcann actually wanted; but also about where such a massive fleet came from. Lana had mentioned massive tributes disappearing resources… There had to be a hidden military installation of some sort, possibly even a whole planet dedicated to the war effort. But where?

"What do you think, Commander?" Theron's direct question cut through her thoughts and she blinked and looked at him blankly. "You weren't listening were you?"

"No, I wasn't, sorry."

Both advisors deflated slightly although Theron impishly grinned, "It wasn't important anyway. Lana just thinks that--"

"Lana can tell me herself what she thinks," the disapproval in her tone was a defense that not that long ago would have never crossed Lo'nash mind. Lana might have been a loyal advisor but nothing more; but now…   


Theron paused, considered, and then gestured with a half nod at Lana, who looked slightly surprised, but picked up with only a second of delay, "Nothing Czerka is involved with ends well. They don't follow any rules except their own."

"Do we have an alternative to Czerka's test drug?"

Lana was silent and Theron answered after a moment, "Not from the Republic. With Trant on watch I can't make any inquiries about classified projects."

"There may be an alternative, I can't promise it will work, but--" Lana hesitated, the same conditioned response she had any time she talked about Imperial Intelligence. "All high level Imperial Intelligence officers are trained to resist mental manipulation; it's designed to allow agents to repeal attacks by Jedi but--"

Theron shook his head, and while he didn't actually dramatically roll his eyes it was there in his voice. "The SiS tried the same thing to repel Sith attacks, and I'm one of the only people it even halfway worked on. There's a reason both the Jedi and the Sith start training so young."

Lana looked like she wanted to argue further but instead turned to Lo'nash, "It's your call Commander."

Again, she wanted more information. The endless paperwork of military service had its advantages -- somebody else had probably already asked and answered the same question if you were willing to dig through the records to find it -- but here with limited time and resources, she needed to make the call now based on little more than instinct.

She trusted Theron, but… "We need to keep Czerka away from the Alliance. They'll only end up siphoning resources towards their own objectives in wild space if we let them set up any sort of outpost."

"What about any Czerka Employees already here as recruits?" If he disagreed with the decision there was no trace of it.   


"Monitor their outgoing communications and if any of them are engaging in anything that looks even a tiny bit suspect…" she trailed off and Theron looked uneasy, "give them a warning the first time; the second time they're gone."

Theron still looked uneasy, "I don't like the idea of monitoring our own people--"

"You don't have to read their messages, just check to see if they're routinely in contact with known Czerka agitators." She made no effort to hide the distaste in her voice, Czerka's ability to whip people in a frenzy over minor issues was unrivaled across the galaxy. "Nothing outside of the normal security measures."

"Now, was there anything else?" It wasn't meant as a dismissal of Theron, but it ended up coming across as more impatient then she had meant. It hadn't even been an hour and it already felt like she had solved several major crises.   


Shrugging and yawning Theron shook his head, looking tired, "I'll go work on getting Doctor Oggurobb to agree to letting you get back to work."

She laughed, developing a devious grin on her face, "Tell him if he doesn't approve it I'll make sure C2-N2 cleans his lab daily for the next month."

Theron grinned right back, nearly identical expression on his face, "It's good to have you back Commander." With that he left, and Lana shook her head at his departure.

"What doctor Oggurobb needs is a team of assistants, not a cleaning droid underfoot." Lana sounded slightly wistful, not about joining his staff, but about the unrealized dream of the Alliance having experts in every subject on-hand -- it was the same feeling Lo'nash had, the same dream of what the Alliance could be.

"Do you have somebody in mind?" The question was eager, maybe a little too eager.

"I've been working on a dosise of possible recruits for the Alliance, but, we can discuss that another time. "Right now, we need to focus on getting you up and out attending meetings as soon as possible. Rumors are already spreading that you're unfit for duty and--"

"Let them," Lana looked like she wanted to argue but waited for an explanation, "We need as many people as possible to believe that I'm going to be out of commission for several weeks."

"I see." Crisp Imperial efficiency. Lo'nash found herself missing Elara in that moment. It was partly Lana's Imperial accent, partly the fact for a long time Elara had been the person she'd made these sorts of plans with. "And you'll actually be doing what in the meantime?"

Lo'nash shifted to stand up, flinching slightly as her bare feet touched the cold stone floor, "We," she lingered on the word for emphasis, "Will be taking a trip to Zakuul to gather more information."

Lana didn't immediately say no, taking her time to consider the proposal before nodding slowly. "SCORPIO's network of informants planetside have been an invaluable source of information, but, even she admits the only way to start gaining military intelligence is to hit The Spire itself."

"Getting back out there… It'll feel good after all the work we've done here." Being a diplomat suited her, despite how much Lo'nash resisted it doing so. When she had given the speech to The Alliance, everybody in the room had felt her conviction, and had trusted her as their leader. She couldn't seem to shake what she was born to no matter how she tried.   


"Is intelligence gathering the only reason you want to go back to Zakuul?"

The question caught her off guard enough that there was raw anger in her reply "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

"Have you considered the possibility that you're emotionally compromised and that this could easily be a trap?"

She had, actually, for exactly the length of time it took her to process who had sent the message. "You're right that this is more Personal than usual, but Elara is the last person in the galaxy that would turn on me."   



End file.
